Drugs, Glorious Drugs!

First off, thanks to all of you who expressed your get well wishes. To those of you who are also suffering through the long days of sick households, my wishes for a speedy recovery, and Drugs! Last night, when Dylan coughed so hard that he made himself throw up again, (after being sick for 8 days), I was mad. When I am sick, I actually get to the point where I become irrationally angry - angry at the tissue box that just ran out of tissues, angry at the toaster that burned my freakin' toast, angry at the person who dared to call me on the phone when I just got comfortable on the couch, angry at the heater that isn't coming on when I want it to because I have the chills, angry at the wall that I bumped into taking my congested, hazy self into the kitchen, angry at the illness that is making my family miserable. Last night, as I lay in bed, listening to my husband coughing violently, downstairs on the couch, (where he has voluntarily been sleeping, so that at least I have some hope of getting rest), I got furious. Enough is enough.

This morning I announced, "We ARE getting drugs...TODAY!" I waited around impatiently until 9:00 on the dot, when my doctor and also Dylan's pediatrician's office opened. Then, the phone calls began, and the begging. "Pleeeeeaase, can you just call in an antibiotic?", (with a few coughs and gags for effect). Jim took 1/2 day off, and when he called his doctor, I believe the answer he immediately got was "No problem". My doctor took several back and forth phone calls, begging, pleading, and cajoling, but they finally gave in.

The pediatrician wouldn't budge - we had to take him in. "FINE!", my miserable self shouted. I had explained to Jim the night before that I could NOT take Dylan to the doctors myself. He seemed confused by that statement. However, after going along today, I am certain that he understands. Just for the doctor to look in Dylan's ears took me holding his legs, Jim holding his arms, and the doctor holding his head, and the 3 adults were still struggling. I'm telling you this kid has superhuman strength. When she said we could wait a few more days to see if this thing ran its course, or we could be more aggressive since he doesn't seem to be getting any better, I almost shrieked, "GIVE US DRUGS!", like a crazy person. Luckily, she did give us a prescription for an antibiotic, so you won't be seeing me on the nightly news this evening.

Since my dumb doctor took all day to finally call my drugs in, I called Jim at work and asked him to pick them up on his way home. Problem is, I called several hours before he left work, instead of five minutes before, and he has a short, short term memory, so he came in the door without it. "I NEED DRUGS!! YOU BETTER GO GET ME SOME DRUGS!!!", was my sweet, love infused greeting to my darling husband.

But, hey, we all have drugs now, so life is good. I'm gonna go take some, hug my tissue box, kick back on the couch, and watch Wentworth be his dreamy self.